Continuing Tales

A Morbid Taste for Ice

A Marvel Movieverse Story
by sitehound

Part 35 of 39

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"So we are leaving Midgard, then," stated Thor, as soon as Sean, with Jane at his side, joined him and Darcy the next room. He and Darcy both eyed the structure in the far corner of the room.

Sean, one hand still on Jane's arm, gestured at Thor, and then farther into the large room they had just entered, his meaning, "Move; over there," clear. Being ordered around was a foreign concept to Thor, but the blond prince obeyed, mirroring Sean's pose by taking gentle hold of Darcy's arm and moving her along with him.

"Ow!" Darcy yelped softly. Her hand had bumped up against Thor's side, jarring her sore finger.

"Darcy?" Thor's hand released her. He stopped but she kept moving, approaching the strange structure in the far corner, mesmerized by its familiarity.

"I'm fine," she said distractedly. Right arm bent, hand at her chest to keep her finger from getting struck again, she continued across the room, taking in details of the cavernous space. A half dozen magical globe lights were positioned along the top beam of the barn's peaked roof. They cast feeble light along the center of the room, leaving most of the space in shadow.

Sheets of plywood sheathing, grayish tan in the fey light, lined the lower six feet of the walls. The rest of the blackened walls and ceiling, however, hadn't been repaired. In fact, Darcy could see the gaps between the barn's siding, but no light from outside penetrated the building. She had the impression that the gaps had been chinked with the horrible magical darkness.

Continuing on, she stopped a few feet before the portal, because that's what it was. Just like the spot in Ruth King's barn, sparks, made of all the colors of the rainbow and beyond, dove and rose like swarms of insects, inside and around the structure. Unlike the thing in the Kings' barn, however, this portal had more than magical framing. It made her think of a wooden gazebo, only without a nice set of patio furniture. A deep humming sound came from the structure, generating a uncomfortable sense of pressure in her ears that she couldn't banish with yawning or swallowing.

Forgetting caution, she took another step and touched one of the eight posts that marked its perimeter. The post, amusingly, was the pretty much the standard Southwestern porch post, featuring a carved design meant to look like a thick length of rope. The wood was freshly carved, still smelling wetly of sap. She expected Sean or someone to warn her away, but when no admonishment came, she realized that once again no one took her seriously enough to bother.

Peering farther into the portal, she saw a latticework of oak strips woven between vertical lengths of iron rebar that made up the back wall of the portal. Iron. The tithe thingy that Loki mentioned in Ruth King's barn.

Going deeper into the portal seemed a bad idea, even by Darcy's leap-first-think-later standards, but she gingerly extended her left arm, reaching to the dancing sparks. Thor and Sean's voices murmured in the back of her awareness, but no one said, "Darcy, don't touch!" The tips of her fingers grazed the surface of the magically charged air within the portal and she drew back briefly at the zingy shock. Finding all five digits still intact, she tried again, letting her fingers sink into the flow of magic, the feeling reminiscent of holding a hand out the window of a fast moving car, invisible currents wafting against skin. A memory coiled, rose and dissipated like smoke, not quite tangible, just out of reach. She had encountered this magic before--Sean's magic. On the fake Asgard rose and somewhere else? Where?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Thor's deep voice as it rose in volume, cutting through the portal's constant hum. "Have you grown weak, elf?" he asked. "You did not need such a device to transport Loki and I to Midgard."

Darcy shifted her attention from the structure to the two men, studying Thor's face, wondering why he trying to provoke Sean.

Sean answered Thor's question without a trace of irritation. "I wasn't transporting mortals." He glanced meaningfully at Jane and Darcy. "Interdimensional travel outside a channel constructed by the Bifrost or a similar structure wrecks havoc on mortal brains. All that infinity turns their brains to Jell-O."

"You don't have to follow his orders, Thor," Darcy said, raising her voice to carry across the room. "He can't kill Jane or me because then he wouldn't have hostages. He's bluffing." Thor eyes narrowed slightly and the fingers on his right hand curled as if holding a hammer's handle.

Unfazed, Sean flicked a glance at Jane. "Killing her would be a last resort, but hurting her? Not so much." Jane flinched, eyes widening and then clenching shut. "I can make her wish she'd never met you."

Her mouth moving in wordless agony, Jane staggered, feet braced far apart. She pressed her palms against her forehead, the magical razors around her wrists hissing as they contacted one another.

Sean waved his fingers lazily. Jane dropped her hands from her head, still gasping, but the pain lifted away. "You should know better than to listen to Darcy," he said to Thor.

"Why's that? Because I'm a silly girl?" asked Darcy, frustrated, helpless. "Been there, heard that, bought the commemorative shot glass. 'Sides, I've been called that by a better man than you."

Sean cocked his head at her. "Loki?"

"No, by Thor." Thor had said it, months before to Jane when he thought Darcy was out of earshot. Darcy hadn't taken it personally, especially since, what he said after--"Loki would not appreciate me saying so, he thinks Darcy is his alone to insult."--distracted her.

Distraction. Thor needed a distraction.

"Your fiancée really wouldn't have wanted this," said Darcy, bracing for Sean's reaction.

Careful what you wish for. His gaze snapped, whip fast, on her, blue eyes incongruously hot with anger. "You will not speak of her!"

She'd been through so much scary stuff, it didn't seem possible that she had any left in her body, but adrenaline spiked anyway. Fear racing through her body, she nonetheless also felt rage, remembering the dream, the invasion into her personal mind space. "I will," she said, her voice squeaking with nerves.

"You won't," Sean snarled, advancing on her.

"I will!" She didn't retreat from his approach. She had stood up to Loki; she wasn't about to back down from Sean. "Because I know her. In my nightmare. I was in her fucking mind. Her dead, dying mind, thanks to you." She pointed at him. "If you didn't want me to know her, you shouldn't have shoved her last hours alive into my head!"

Sean stopped, recoiling ever so subtlety, his eyes black pupils with a narrow rim of blue. "That wasn't meant to happen." His voice was oddly soft.

"Well, it did."

He broke eye contact, his expression lost. "I don't know how that happened. She moved through me, into you." He met her eyes and she saw longing. "I wanted so much to know her thoughts, to touch her in any way, one last time, but she passed right through you."

With those words, Sean's scary, vengeful madness fell away, and even with pointy ears, he was the person she knew again. Open, vulnerable, heartbroken. Suspended in his pain, all she could say was, "I'm sorry."

When Mjölnir struck him, she felt a ridiculous twist of guilt, underneath her overwhelming sense of relief. Mjölnir moved as a flash, too fast for her to see the actual collision. Thrown by Thor, who had lunged forward and to her right, the magical weapon struck Sean's back. The force of the blow drove Sean right past Darcy, smashing him into a section of wall a few feet from the portal.

The collision of flesh on plywood, driven by the hammer, sent a wet, cracking sound echoing around the room. Forgetting her jammed finger, Darcy slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp, stomach churning. This was what really happened when Thor wielded Mjölnir, a revolting tableau of blood splatter, and white bone and whatever else painted the now cracked plywood.

She pulled her eyes away from the sight, seeing Thor hurrying toward Jane, who was still bound by the magical razors. "If only...Loki," Thor said, standing before Jane, reaching timidly toward the ring at Jane's neck, "he would know what to do."

"Wow," said a voice beside her. "You really are thick." Darcy yelped, startled and found Sean standing a few feet from her side. Baffled, her eyes went to the wall, finding only cracked plywood--no blood, no guts.

Sean sneered at Thor. "Your brother isn't the only sorcerer who can do illusions." With that, a loud whimper that quickly evolved into agonized cries began. Darcy turned, finding the source: Jane. Her friend's hands were clamped to her head and she hunched over, her cries escalating in volume and pitch. The sound lanced through Darcy and she rounded on Sean. "Stop it," she pleaded.

He smiled beatifically at Thor, his pale face filled with calm cruelty. "Put down the hammer or not only does she die, but she dies in pain."

Rage and disappointment on his handsome face, Thor was setting Mjölnir down even before Sean's command, but Darcy couldn't take the sound of Jane's cries. She lunged at Sean, unsure what she planned to do, settling on wild punch in the direction of his face. Her fist impacted the side of his head, but she couldn't enjoy her success because the blow sent a bolt of pain up her hand from her sore finger.

Before she had a chance to recover, a hand wrapped around her throat, fingertips sinking into her flesh like talons. Sean had his arm outstretched, holding her away from him. His grip, strong, like Loki's, shut off the air to her brain. Her fingernails clawed with animal desperation at his hand, but to no avail. He wasn't Loki, his actions were no mistake. Darkness, chased by pain began to cloak her mind and vision. Jane's shrieks of pain became a perverse anchor to waning consciousness. She made a desperate attempt to kick him, but already dizzy, her balance was off and the action just made Sean's chokehold more painful.

"Stop this!" roared Thor. "You are killing them."

"Not killing. Hurting," responded Sean. "Swear there will be no more heroics and..."

The rest of Sean's words and Thor's answer turned to incoherent mumbles as her oxygen-starved brain forgot how to process speech. Light narrowing into a black tunnel before her eyes, Darcy's hand grew heavy and she pawed feebly at the hand on her neck. Then the fearsome pressure lifted and suddenly free, she wobbled and collapsed to the ground. Wheezing, she stared at the old concrete beneath her feet, at the black oil stains and the patterns made by men's work boots in scattered sand on the surface.

"Darcy. Are you well?" asked Thor and all she managed was a nod. I hurt everywhere. Jane's been tortured. And Jane and I are the reason why you can't kick Sean's ass. I'm so not "well"

"On my honor," she heard Thor say, his voice distant through the throbbing of blood rushing back to her head, "I will go where ever you wish. Set the women free."

"Your honor," snorted Sean. "I've waited too long for this to trust your honor, Asgardian."

"H-huh-huh-huh," Darcy rasped, her nearly crushed windpipe not cooperating. "H-huh-how long is 'long?'"

Sean dropped a brief glance at her. "About four hundred years, give or take a few decades."

Her head whirling at both the span of time and the restored flow of oxygen, she groped for a response. A four hundred year long grudge! She blinked up at him. Even now, all elf-y, he still didn't look more than twenty.

Sean slid her a sideways look, a dark smile on his lips. "Don't tell me you don't understand. The guy who raped you. He got away with it. And it still eats at you and someday you'll get your revenge."

"No," she said, feeling Thor and Jane's attention snapping to her, Sean's revelation putting surprise and questions on their faces. "I won't. Because I don't let the past ruin my now."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, disbelief plain on face and she dropped her gaze to the floor. "Get up," Sean said, but she didn't move, her eyes suddenly drawn to movement in the shadows, along the wall where Sean's illusion had died. Scurrying along the floor was a lizard. Bic? Darcy's last memory of her pet was on the porch, when Loki had the seizure. Maybe it was another lizard. Take away Bic's habit of begging for treats and spitting fire, and she was utterly indistinguishable from her wild kin. Darcy kept her face turned to the floor, not daring to call attention to the animal.

"Up." Hands grasped her upper arms and pulled. Before she could protest, she stood before Sean, staring up at his face. Briefly she met his eyes searching for the person she thought she knew, but finding only a stranger. Powered by a weak surge of anger, she shook off his arms, staggering away from him.

"Fuck you," she muttered.

"Whatever," said Sean. He shoved his hoodie's sleeves up to his elbows, as if preparing for hard work. "Let's go."

"That's it," said a familiar smooth voice from the shadows by the doorway.

"Loki," Darcy whispered, her utterance echoed louder by Thor. The sight of him, upright and breathing, snapped the brittle barrier that held back her grief and tears started to roll down her face.

He moved forward into the light, the shadows clinging to him for an instant before letting go. The splotches of blood on his clothing gave the impression that a few patches of shadow hung on in the light. "Your intonation, so very human, right down to the modern American dialect, and so dissonant coming from an elf."

"That's close enough," said Sean, his face unconcerned, but tone sharp.

Loki halted near Thor, still about twenty feet from Sean and Darcy. In the feeble light, his face was death pale, perfect symmetry marred with gray blood stains and black gashes. "I remember your voice, the night you 'assisted' in our escape from Asgard." He shook his head ruefully. "Here I am, surrounded by mortals who speak in the same manner, and yet I did not make the connection. Our rescuer was an immortal who had lived so long among Midgard's mortals that he had quite literally, 'Gone native.'"

"You're worse than cockroach," observed Sean. "You just won't stay dead."

"And you are as dim as..." Loki smirked and indicated his brother with a tilt of the head, "him, if you think me so easily dispatched."

Sean studied Loki for a beat, then shook his head. "No, you were toast. I know it."

"Why? Because he thought so?" Loki sneered at Thor.

Eyes narrowed, Sean cut a look at Darcy. "No, because your pet mortal believed it and she's connected to you...somehow."

"Pet?" said Loki, with a perplexed smile. He studied Darcy. "Shouldn't a pet fetch slippers, or greet its master joyfully when he returns home? When last I returned from a journey, she set her pet dragon on me." Despite everything that had gone down, Darcy grinned.

Reminded by the conversation, Darcy surreptitiously cast a look behind her at the wall, searching. The lizard was closer. Bic? she thought hard, hoping that if it was her pet, that Loki had also programmed the little bugger for telepathy. The gray lizard stopped and then lunged, mouth suddenly full of a small, dark insect.

"So Odin's spell was bullshit," said Sean. "You've been free of Thor all along."

"Free as a bird," Loki said glibly. Darcy's eyes narrowed and she scrutinized her lover. She could feel him once again, pulsing against her awareness, but the signal, for lack of a better way to describe it, was different, weaker. Was this Loki or an illusion?

Sean nodded. "And now you want control of this portal."

"I do?" Loki's lean face brightened with innocence. Looking beyond Darcy, to the portal, he grinned. "What a splendid idea."

Sean rolled his eyes, which was a funny look for an elf. Darcy, however, continued to consider the mystery of Loki's state. She closed her eyes and explored the connection between them. Opening her eyes again, she bit her lower lip, worried.

With a shrug at the portal, Sean said, "So go. I'm not stopping you." Accentuating his invitation, the elf moved to the side, pulling Darcy with him, leaving a clear path to Loki's exit. Some of the sly mirth slipped from Loki's facade and his gaze slid to the portal. Undisguised avarice shone in his eyes.

"What are you waiting for?" grumbled Sean.

Loki flashed Sean a brilliant smile. "You have something of mine."

"Thor?" The elf's tone mimicked Loki's previous dry humor. "You hate him as much as I do."

"More, actually. You haven't had the pleasure of his company for centuries." He gave a pointed look at Darcy. "I mean, my pet."

Sean snorted. "Darcy? Really?"

"Yes, really. You seem surprised."

"She's pretty enough, but she's not my type. And you, Prince of Asgard, could do better."

"Elves," said Loki, derisively. "No taste, whatsoever." He cocked his head at Sean. "If she doesn't interest you, why haven't you set her free?"

"She amuses me."

"Careful," said Loki. "She once amused me. So much so that I now find myself negotiating her return with an upstart elf whelp." His green eyes narrowed and he focused on Sean. "An upstart whelp too stupid to get out of the way of a were-stag."

Reflexively, Sean glanced down at his arm, at the scar he said came from hunting.

"Ordinarily, elves, like my kind, can magic away their scars," Loki explained, addressing his words to Darcy. "A scar from a were-stag resists magic." He cocked his head at Sean. "He was wise to avoid contact with me, all these months. I would have known what he was immediately."

Thor and Jane watched the interaction in silence and Darcy wondered if Thor sensed what she did about Loki. She was convinced the person who stood there was real, not illusion and that filled her with dread. Separated by several yards, his magic, all that he was, nudged at her senses, but the power she felt was threadbare and coming undone. Did Sean know just how weak Loki was?

The hollow fear grew as she noticed how intently Sean was studying Loki.

Slow realization spread across his elven features. "You're fond of her. A mortal. That's just...sad."

Darcy braced herself for Loki's cruel contradiction of Sean's statement.

Loki instead huffed a regretful laugh. "Even a cursory study of my history would reveal that I've done things far more lamentable."

With a nod, Sean said, "Not a very smart admission."

"No more foolish than this," he swept a hand around the room, "your attempt at vengeance."

"You think I'm overreacting."

"I think you are overreacting?" Loki made a little snort of laughter. "I'm sorry. Apparently you don't know who I am." He swept a theatrical bow at Sean. "Loki...of Asgard," he winked at Darcy, "or somewhere, not here."

"Vengeance," continued Loki, "is my favorite vintage and in principle, your quarrel with Odin gladdens my heart. But your plan is clumsy and inelegant."

Sean returned Loki's laugh. "Right. Because throwing an army at New York was elegant."

To Darcy's surprise, Loki laughed and nodded sadly. "I've had better plans. Think of me as an object lesson."

What was his plan now, she wondered? Because if it depended on magic, in Loki's weakened state, they were all screwed. The lizard was now much closer and Darcy began to form a plan of her own. She shifted her feet noisily and when Sean paid no attention, she edged backward and away from his line of sight.

"I'll keep your many mistakes in mind," said Sean. "Are you leaving or not?" He waved vaguely at the portal.

Darcy leaned casually down and pretended to poke at the cuts on her knee. "Bic," she whispered, hoping the portal's hum would cover her voice, "come here, girl." Intent on hunting insects, the lizard didn't react. Darcy's attention wandered to the two wizards, hoping Sean hadn't noticed the little creature. Sean's focus was tight on Loki, a line of tension in his slight form that hadn't been there with Thor. Obviously, even thought his gripe wasn't with Loki, he took the God of Mischief more seriously than Thunder.

When she looked back down, the lizard was at her feet. Bic's tiny eyes, black beads in a gray muzzle, were as impassive as a snake's, but the little creature focused on her with a dog-like intensity, skinny, striped, gray body held high on four legs. Darcy bent lower, and double knotted a shoelace. Quickly, she whispered a command.

Her whiptail lashing enthusiastically, Bic slithered away to the portal.

"I like you, boy," said Loki with a cheerful smile. "Our tastes in women may be divergent, but we share an enemy --Odin." Still smiling, he shrugged. "It's a pity I will have to kill you."

In response to Loki's declaration, the elf looked over his shoulder at her, and Darcy's eyes grew wide, driven by fear for herself, but also that he would spot Bic. To Loki, he said, "You're threatening me, when I have your pet?"

"A statement of fact." Loki's eyes moved up Darcy's body, stopping on her throat where bruises must already have been forming from Sean's punishing grip. "We passed the affable point of threats when you damaged said pet."

"And how do you plan on making me dead? With your teeth? Because you're still weak, Odinson."

A ghost of a smile haunted Loki's lips, but his eyes glittered with an inhuman madness, that made Darcy, who was pretty much immune to his unhinged looks, shudder. "I have very sharp teeth," he said, his tones velvety and deep. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Thor powerful frame stiffening, ready to react.

She licked her lips, taste-feeling magic from three sources, cinnamon, peppermint, and a much strong sensation of something peppery and hot. What was Bic doing? Had the tiny reptile, the four-legged cigarette lighter as Jane called her, understood Darcy's command? She didn't dare look in the portal's direction, for fear that Sean would notice. What if the portal had just flung her poor little pet into some other dimension?

"Ah," said Loki, another grin brightening his battered face. "You think I mean to kill you now? Patience, boy. First things first." With all his usual grace, he extended his left arm and flicked his fingers casually in Thor's direction.

"Lo-ki!" said Thor. "What-"

"This clever bit of dark elven sorcery has an edge that will part even your thick skull from your neck, brother." A ring of sharp magic, the same as the one around Jane's neck, had appeared around Thor's neck. Turning to Sean, Loki said, "I may not recall every spell I once knew, but like a child learning its runes, I can certainly copy."

In a few long strides, he stood beside Thor. He smiled winningly at Thor. "Relax, dear brother. Your end won't come at this boy's hand."

Darcy's feet did the thinking and they her eased back several more steps, away from Sean. Before she could stop herself, she glanced at the portal. The magical sparks continued to ride eddies of power, but another light had joined them. There in the back of the portal, cheerful yellow and orange tongues of flame licked and blackened the wooden lattice. Darcy had set her little friend on that part of the structure, assuming that Bic's tiny flame was no match for the thick posts. To her surprise, though, one of the posts in the back showed an ever-expanding ring of flame near its base. Bic, still in the barn, on planet Earth, crept in her jerky reptilian way along the back perimeter, spitting little gouts of flame at the wooden latticework.

"No!" snarled Sean. He spun, rounding on Darcy, who stared at him, eyes big as saucers. "I'll-"

"Play a rousing game of spot the real Darcy?" observed Loki. Darcy swallowed, almost choking on the thick taste of cinnamon on her skin, in her nose, in her throat. Sean's eyes were no longer on her. At least a half dozen other Darcys were now in the barn, with the same bumps and bruises on their necks, hands, and knees, but wearing a variety of expressions. The one closest to her smirked and flipped Sean off.

Darcy skittered back several steps closer to the portal, but her movement didn't catch Sean's attention, his eyes passing right over her. Closing her eyes, she reached for her connection to Loki and felt his magic evaporating. Those two spells had cost him a lot.

"The oaf is mine to kill," announced Loki with a twitchy eagerness that felt all too honest. Darcy licked her lips. She'd deal with Loki's fratricidal urges later. First break the portal. "Good girl," she hissed at Bic. "The posts, too. Hurry."

With one last glower at the Darcy doppelgangers, Sean turned his attention to Jane. In seconds, Jane's hands were back on her head, her mouth a rictus of agony.

"No," Darcy whispered. "No. No. No!" She rushed toward Sean. "Stop hurting her. I'm here." Waving her hands to get his attention, she stopped just a stride before him. "Loki. Take off the spell. Let him see me. Please. He's hurting her."

And Sean's eyes found her, just as the sense of Loki began to fade. Licking her lips, trying to taste the last bits of cinnamon, she was otherwise a frozen statue before the enraged elf. "Please," she croaked through her fear.

Sean's hand snagged a handful of her T-shirt and hauled her toward him. A bright sting flared on her throat as he pulled her back against his chest. "If Prince Thor dies, then your pet follows him into the afterlife." Jane's cries fell silent and Darcy looked her way, an apology in her eyes.

Loki's eyes darted to his brother, but before he could respond, Sean cocked his head and sniffed. "What-?"

"It's cig-garette smoke." Jane's voice, wobbly, but filled with confidence answered the question. "SHIELD has found us." Darcy caught Jane's ever-so slight glance and realized that Jane must have noticed what she and Bic were doing.

Even though the smell was very clearly not cigarette, Sean stiffened, his posture focused on the door. Darcy's head turned involuntarily toward the portal. Bic darted to another post and belched a plume of flame.

Unfortunately, Sean caught her motion and turned as well. His response was one that she was getting accustomed to: "Darcy, what did you do?" The sharp edge at her throat dropped away along with his arms around her and she squirmed away.

The elf was staring at the portal in dull horror, an ordinary dagger in hand. Loki, however, was grinning. "Perhaps," he suggested, smoothly, "if expecting Darcy in the proximity, you should have built it from...asbestos?"

Self-preservation kicking in, Darcy skittered back from Sean. He turned his face to her, a cold mask that she knew concealed lethal fury. Before he could speak, she stammered, "M-mortals rule, elves drool." Her eyes flicked toward Loki.

Reminded of the real danger in the room, Sean turned, the dagger still in hand, his weight on the balls of his feet, ready. Loki and Thor mirrored his stance. Magic rose in a thick, invisible cloud.

Darcy didn't watch the impending confrontation because another concern yanked her thoughts away. Remembering what happened when she broke the portal in the Kings' barn, the explosion of hay, she turned, looking for Bic, who happily continued to immolate the remaining latticework and posts. The many lengths of steel rebar woven into the frame's structure were shivering ominously. The image of heavy metal falling and squashing the tiny reptile flashed before Darcy's eyes.

Loki, Sean and everything else forgotten, she practically lunged toward her pet. "Bic! Come here, now!" Except nothing made a fire lizard happier than turning stuff to charcoal, and the animal stayed on target. Poof! More wood took fire. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sean take a step in her direction, but getting Bic out of harm's way was all that mattered. She paused at the edge of the portal and then plunged in, hoping it wouldn't start up and teleport her someplace with no flush toilets or iPods. Bic finally noticed her and slithered to her side.

What came next happened at blinding speed. She stood, Bic on her shoulder. There was a light pop and then the top-of-the-mountain, plugged-ear sensation. Next, the rapid descent of her stomach, as she realized her mistake. Around her, Sean's alien magic convulsed and agonized. She took several rapid steps back, out of the structure.

In the barn, everyone else had stopped, realizing what was happening. Sean stood about ten feet away, one hand clenching the dagger, the other raised as if about to cast a spell. Her eyes met Sean's. She swallowed, her ears unplugged and the portal collapsed with a roar.

A Morbid Taste for Ice

A Marvel Movieverse Story
by sitehound

Part 35 of 39

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